


Echoes of the Shots

by ChildofStorms



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Attempted Suicide, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, F/F, Fight or Die, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Hurt Team, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Loss of Trust, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Explicit Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Harm, Sheith Month 2017, SheithMonth2k17, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 19:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12065091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChildofStorms/pseuds/ChildofStorms
Summary: Keith holds on to the fragments of Shiro, despite facing the odds. Despite wondering if there was anything left that could be fixed. Shiro just wishes he could remember why this man cares so much.





	Echoes of the Shots

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have a bit of a weird August Sheith Month. I decided to make one huge story with interconnecting parts. So, each section below equals one day. 
> 
> Inspired by this song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZrddJPGp1I
> 
> But, it also has a playlist since each section is preluded with selected lyrics from different songs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ihul_7ZT6k&list=PLiokvYYB9EspZE9XZjPAJXAND53Q7wsWz
> 
> I’m going to try and keep this as pg-13 as possible, because I don’t want to create something that can’t be enjoyed by everyone. But, there are some warnings about the content in my story. I can tell you now, there will be:
> 
> Minor character death, blood/gore(?), mind-control, some forms of nonsexual dub-con, drugs usage, fight or die themes, non-explicit sex, self-harm/ attempted suicide.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, yes, I’m so incredibly late on this… I’m just, not very motivated at times, and I’m a grad student with very little free time. But, I just really wanted to do this!
> 
> Also, Bucky reference? What Bucky Reference? Ahhahahaha.

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Echoes of the Shots

 

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Shot Zero

Prologue

_I try to understand_

_How we're here again_

_In the middle of the storm_

_There's no way to go_

_But straight through the smoke_

_And the fight is all we know_

_(Through the Fire-Ruelle)_

 

His back thumped against cracked brick, jarring, and for a moment everything felt aligned in a clear clarity before panic rushed in again. A hand grabbed his shoulder, forcing him back up, back into the panicked chase.

 

“Just keep moving, Keith. Keep moving!”

 

 His breathe panted across Keith’s skin, close enough to feel the muscles shaking against his own, close to feel the static of building energy spark against his skin. Shiro was just barely holding on, the surge of electricity within him barely contained, sloppily hidden to keep the Galra from tracking them.

 

Shiro led him into an alleyway, the neon lights from the far distance scattering shadows across their own, flickering in time with their heartbeats. Keith stumbled then, nearly taking Shiro with him.

 

“No, no, no. Get up! Come on, Keith. Stay with me!”

 

It had been an accident. A stupid one. A name whispered after a mission, something so well hidden that they had become too careless. Keith had sighed his name, ran a hand through Shiro’s hair. Foreheads bumped together, and a camera lens had shuttered closed.

 

The Galra payed good money for information.

 

They Galra paid good money for their hunters, too. For the strategists that ran them through the city streets, that kept them from safety, ripping it from them when they were only a few corners away and forcing them into another chase. Their organization was filled with these people, the elites who caught and forced supers to fight for them.

 

They’d been running for so long now, since before the city’s rush hour, before the street lights had taken away shadows for them to hide in.

 

Shiro knelt before him now, face partially illuminated with the flickering lights as Keith failed to stand. His pupils blown, dazed from exertion. How was he even still standing? Keith lifted the arm Shiro held, and dug his fingers into Shiro’s sweat soaked sleeve.

 

“Just go—“

 

“No, we’re getting out of this together.”

 

“Shiro, I can’t.” Keith’s words contorted from a half sob partway through, shifting into a sharp cry as pain radiated from his shoulder. Keith’s heart jumped as his fingers lost their grip on Shiro, falling towards his side. The neon lights darkened, then. Blending into the shadows on Shiro’s face, masking the new flash of panic that settled into his bones until even that merged into the shadows that surrounded them.

 

He could hear Shiro’s voice, threatening but desperate. He could feel himself being pushed against his chest. Then nothing at all.

 

 

Shot One

Yes, Sir

_No time for rest_

_No pillow for my head_

_Nowhere to run from this_

_No way to forget_

_(Battlefield- Svrcina)_

 

_“Champion, what is your status?”_

 

The sharp voice across Flare’s earpiece curled around his spine, offsetting. The sound itself was jarring in the near silence that came from being above the streets. The night diffused a calm in a way that was offset by their objective, and even as he tried to relax and let the breeze prepare him, Flare could not seem to shake the tenseness building up throughout him. He listened as people slept in nearby apartments, and the occasional whispering of couples walking below on the streets would shift the air before resettling once they left.

 

A nearby streetlight flickered as he and Champion raced past, keeping a good distance between themselves and their target. The curling in his stomach barely had a moment to decline before the voice of the man beside him made the curling return, it’s presence tightening around Flare.

 

“Target is in sight, moving on to the next stage.”

 

Flare followed as Champion circled a drunk man, his footsteps clinging irregularly on the chipped pavement.

 

“Flare, move in first. Make it quiet.”

 

The man, even if he hadn’t been drunk, wouldn’t have stood a chance. He let out a stunted gasp of air as a ball of liquid fire slammed him into a nearby wall.  Flare kept the man in sight as he descended from the roof, his footsteps leaving little noise as he neared the man. The target scrambled against the wall as his breathing turned to sharp gasps, only moments away from hyperventilating. His feet began to work again, and in desperation the target tripped over himseld as he let go of the wall, his staggering pace barely putting any distance between him as Flare continued forward.

 

“P-please, don’t, don’t kill me!”

 

As Flare came closer, he could see the fear in his eyes. Agony laced through them as he held a hand against his burnt chest, like it could protect him. The man, Hedrick, was one of the newest targets from the Garrison. A trainer for the next generation of heroes. Someone their agency wanted dead. Hedrick, with his eyes so focused on Flare, stumbled back into the chest of Champion.

 

“No, no-“

 

Champion’s hands wrapped around Hedrick’s shoulders, and Flare stood back as electricity began to flicker around the other’s hands. A small wail escaped Hedrick, his eyes rolling back as his mind tried to comprehend the sudden jolt rushing through him.

 

Champion froze at the cry, and Flare stopped with him, watching as Champion’s eyes seemed to lose focus. Their com came alive, then, the voice from before growling at the two.

 

“Champion, follow your orders! Kill him now!”

 

The distant look dispelled, and the electricity resurged as Hedrick’s begging cut off in a silent scream, his muscles locking and his jaw clenching down on his own tongue as Champion sent wave after wave through him. Within only a handful of seconds, Champion let go and they both watched as Hedrick collapsed in a twitching heap, his mouth frozen in a howl of pain. Flare then closed the distance, a hand reaching towards the other before jerking back. He looked up towards Champions face, seeking out that brief flash of change from before, but found nothing.

 

A scream, full of rage and unfulfilled threats, echoed across the streets, Flare twitched in response while electricity reappeared on Champion’s skin. Spikes of ice streaked towards the two of them. Flare pulled from the fire within him, igniting his hands with the flames to melt the ice before it touched him. The earpiece blared as he prepared to retaliate against the Garrison hero, Frost.

 

“ _Disengage_!”

 

Flare pulled back, and instead directed the surge of fire against the ground’s surface, exploding the asphalt between him and the attacker. Through the sudden dirt and chunks of the street, he could see the familiar figure of Frost. The other’s eyes narrowed on him, his face contorted in a snarl as he formed more ice from his fingertips. The Champion grabbed the back of Flare’s jacket then, pulling him away and towards the alleyway. The two took off, putting distance between the hero and their dead target.

 

 

Shot Two

Hades

_You fill me up, you fill me up_

_You set my soul ablaze_

_You fill me up fill me up_

_You fill me up even when I lose my head_

_(Guillotine- Jon Bellion)_

The moment they arrived at the base, Champion was separated from Flare. He had to stop himself from following, and instead dug his nails into skin to combat the sudden rush of anger as the other was led down the hallway, away from him. One of the elites, a taciturn man named Haxus, came to stand before him, his eyes watching the Champion being led away before looking at Flare.

 

“The Champion hesitated, as did you.”

 

Flare didn’t answer, and instead lowered his gaze. Haxus clicked his tongue, before he turned to walk down the hallway. Flare followed behind, his muscles rolling beneath his skin as he tried to relax them.

 

“It seems we should increase the exposure to Hades, then. Maybe you as well if the insubordination continues.”

 

Flare jerked at that, his fingers curling inwards and Haxus paused to watch, his eyes taking in his reaction, a feral glee at the weakness Flare exposed.

 

“It’s a shame, overusing Hades on someone as gifted as Champion. You’ve already seen its effects, haven’t you?

 

Flare stomache twisted, a sickening burn churning alongside it, a sudden blow as if Champion had shocked him. He let himself fall back, letting a mask answer for him.

 

“If Champion no longer performed well, our missions would not be as effective.”

 

Haxus paused at that, then continued to walk. “Perhaps. Or maybe it would encourage you to produce better results. Success or his death.”

 

The tightening boiled, then. Flushing through his veins, and Flare felt it begin to leak through his skin. He held it back, choking it back to keep the living flame from becoming tangible. If Haxus felt the sudden shift, he did not acknowledge it and the two continued to walk until they reached the Champion.

 

Flare’s partner stood before a sole chair with broad arms and a cushioned back. The metal of the arms had gouges on the edges, some only scratches while others where deep enough to fit Flare’s knuckle. The cushions were singed in places, and nonexistent in others. Signs of struggles, signs of pain and desperation. Flare turned then towards Haxus.

 

“Sir, I will not allow this to happen again. I have not failed you before, and I will make sure Champion does not as well.”

 

Haxus seemed to think his words over, his hand leaning against the chair before he walked over to the tangle of cords and pipes that connected a helmet to nearby machinery. Flare watched as the man, someone who never had Hades used against him, contemplate the decision before him. Flare himself had only been subjugated to it a few times before Haxus and the science department realized his results were not ideal. They then discovered that the Champions were. His mind, his strength, it couldn’t match the Galra’s Hades. And Flare couldn’t match the leash that choked Champion.

 

Haxus came back towards him, towards Champion, and his eyes narrowed. “A few moments more, and the Garrison would have rescued Hedrick. Frost was right there, you may not have failed, but you were close enough.”

 

Haxus gestured towards the Champion, and both watched as he moved to sit. As Haxus reached for the helmet, a quiet voice sounded from the doorway.

 

“If I may, it would not be wise to use Hades so recently after Champion’s last session.”

 

Both Haxus and Flare turned, and the strain Flare felt relaxed when he saw Ulaz. While being part of Haxus’s department, Ulaz had enough power to make others listen, and very rarely did he push Champion or Flare past their limits. The collected air Haxus had before seared away as Ulaz came closer, and Flare watched as the two faced off with Champion between them.

 

“The brain decay will only increase with little to no recuperation.”

 

“And in the next mission, he may break through.”

 

“Or he may not, and we’ll instead have a useless operative.”

 

The two continued, as Flare watched his eyes glanced over to Champion only to halt. The other stared directly at him, his eyes blank. Flare swore he saw small glimpses of the other as he looked longer, swore he saw pieces of what was once Shiro. He wondered if Champion saw pieces of Keith as well, or if he even saw anything at all.

 

Shot Three

Scars

_Like ships in the night_

_You keep passing me by_

_We’re just wasting time_

_Trying to prove who’s right_

_(Ships in the Night- Mat Kearny)_

They were fast, Flare would give them that. Frost and his friends, four other heroes from the Garrison had cornered him during an assignment. One moment, he had his sights on the target, Champion alerting him to finishing off his own five miles away, the next an advertisement screen to his left concaved within itself, the lights flickering before rushing towards him.

 

It was close, but he managed to dodge it, the sharp edges of the LED pieces and cables carving through the side of his mask, snatching his ear and, he was sure by accident, the Galra earpiece.  Using the momentum from jumping away, Flare let his body fall over the edge of the building, and landed with a small thump on the fireman’s escape below. He just made it to the ground, ready to use the side roads nearby to make his way back to Champion, only to yet again jerk back as the ground cracked before him.

 

Two heroes, Frost and Adamant, stood before him. Their figures tensing as Flare turned to face them, but it didn’t stop the wide smirk Frost gave him.

 

“Nowhere to go, Flare. Make it easy for all of us, okay?” Two other heroes, Craft and Archangel landed behind him, Craft’s large mass of former LED screen settling them down on the road.

 

Flare hesitated, and barely held back a shudder as he anticipated a voice to command him to fight, then let out a small huff when we remembered that the com was now likely smashed to pieces. He looked between the two sets of heroes, glancing around both them and himself. Maybe he could?

 

“I could surrender, or I could give you the biggest break in your careers.” Craft growled in anger, and launched her mass of tech, shaping it in to thick strands. Flare dipped himself underneath them, rolling himself against the ground before putting distance between the strands. Shards of ice followed, forcing him backs towards where Archangel waited. Her touch was dangerous, being able to drain energy or give it, and Flare knew the moment she caught him, he’d lose. 

 

Frost and Adamant circled around to meet him on either side, all three keeping him from finding an exit. In desperation, Flare sent a wave of fire out from himself. It was a temporary fix, but the others were now warier to approach him.

 

“I’m not lying.”

 

Frost snarled at him, his face scrunched in disbelief. “Oh yeah, trust you. Like before, then? Like we did when you and Shiro were a part of us? I remember how well that turned out.”

 

Frost’s words echoed among the others, and they began to circle closer, and as the pushed closer, he saw how they were aiming for Archangel to finally catch him. Flare weaved between her and Adamant, brief bursts of fire and his own agility keeping him at a small distance.

 

“And if I told you we never wanted to? If I told you Shiro was dying?” Flare gasped as his balance faltered, the ground shuddered below him from Adamant pushing energy to where he stood.

 

Craft answered, her strands finally wrapping around his arm, “I’d say you were filled with the same shit as the rest of the Galra.” In a desperate move, Flare made the strand around his arm burst into flame, quick and searing pain racing through his nerves from being too close, but it gave him enough room to escape Craft’s barrage.  

 

“You already know of the Galra, and their coalition.” Flare stopped then, his arms up as he faced Archangel. “Allura, you knew us, and if you doubt me, then at least remember who Shiro was. He was never someone who could be a villain.”

 

Archangel, Allura, stopped her march towards Flare, her eyes searching his face.

 

“He wasn’t.” Her whisper was almost too light to hear, but the others caught her change of mood as she shifted her weight back and no longer look like she would attack him.

 

“You seriously can’t believe it, Allura. This is Keith. He destroyed half the Garrison and both him and Shiro have been picking us off since!”  Frost rushed between the two, the ice he controlled steadily building around his fists and arms. Adamant came forward as well, and Flare couldn’t help but flinch when eyes that had once been so calm and happy could only stare at him with anger and distrust.

 

“The Galra have a machine, it shuts off the pathways to the mesolimbic dopamine system. Champion,” Flare hesitated then, then backpedaled on what he said, “Shiro. The Galra use it on him.”

 

“But not on you.” Craft stated. Flare looked towards her, his breath shallow as he answered.

 

“It didn’t work as well on me, I could still act around their orders. Shiro couldn’t.” his hands shook now, he could see that his answer was not one they would likely accept. He let out a hoarse laugh, one that made Adamant jolt, “I know you don’t trust me, you shouldn’t. But the machine they use, it slowly kills those influenced by it. Each sessions risk damaging the neurons the longer they’re exposed, and Shiro isn’t going to last for long.”

 

Flare watched as the others thought over that, and for a moment, he felt the old pulls of hope. He could do this, he could finally save Shiro. The heroes backed away from him, and began to talk to themselves, and to someone from over their own coms. Within minutes, they finally turned to him.

 

“If Shiro is in as much danger as you say, then we will help.”

 

Shot Four

Freedom

_Life isn’t always what you’d think it’d be_

_Turn your head for one second and the tables turn_

_And I know, I know that I did you wrong_

_But will you trust me when I say_

_That I’ll make it up to you somehow._

_(I’m So Sorry- Imagine Dragons)_

Keith was an idiot, and Flare constantly had to remind himself of that whenever things went south. Keith had believed that the heroes could have helped. Keith believed he could get Shiro away from the Galra. Keith believed in trusting other people.

 

Now Flare was holding on the Champion’s shuddering form, the sounds of Garrison gunshots echoing around them. 17 hours ago, Flare and Champion were briefed by Haxus, who had told them that yet another Garrison official was within their grasp. She was another trainer, Lt. Montgomery, and the mission itself could be finished within a day if done right.

 

Flare had sent the information to Augur, the liaison between himself and the heroes. The man’s voice was so familiar, so comforting, and Flare had forgotten what the leaking of information could mean. He forgot that only five people from the Garrison knew of his plans.

 

He was forced to remember when a large caliber bullet tore through Shiro’s arm, exposing tendon and bone. Flare had grabbed him then, and pulled the other behind a nearby wall. His com was shrill in his ear, demanding to know their status, before becoming static from a nearby scrambler. Flare tore it from his ear, knowing Haxus or whoever else was waiting for them would be displeased at another com lost, but Flare couldn’t think with it on. He couldn’t think as he listened to the pained groans coming from the body next to his. Flare ripped his mask off, tearing the fabric into pieces long enough for a tourniquet. The heroes already knew who he was, and he doubted that any civilian camera was in the area.

 

“Shiro, stay with me. It’s going to be okay.” Grey eyes tried to focus on him, briefly shining with recognition before dulling again.

 

“Flare, my name is Champion.”

 

A knot formed in his throat, eyes that already burned from concrete dust and gunpowder residue stung even more. The firepower was steadily coming closer, shouts from commanding officers, shouts of victory. Flare couldn’t move anywhere, he couldn’t take them out without risking their shelter. Without risking Shiro.

 

Champion grasped his wrist with his good arm, “Don’t hesitate. The mission.”

 

 Keith let out a choked cry, the burning in his eyes streaking down his cheeks. “Fuck the mission.”

 

Champion’s eyes narrowed, then, before his body went limp, his eyes rolling up. Too much blood loss, too much around them for his body to take anymore and Keith could only hold Champion closer and try to keep pressure on his wound.

 

 The cries of victory changed into shouts of panic as gunshots now sounded from new areas, and soon a figure came around the corner, before kneeling by them. A Galra operative, whose voice was muffled by his own mask as he gave orders to retreat. Both he and Flare worked together to lift Champion from the ground, and Flare could only wonder when Thace, a Galra elite, had ever care enough to be gentle with those being used by the organization.

Shot Five

The Shack

_There’s no relief, I see you in my sleep,_

_And everybody’s rushing me, but I can feel you touching me_

_There’s no release, I feel you in my dreams_

_Telling me I’m fine_

_(Dark Paradise- Lana Del Rey)_

The room both he and Champion shared was quiet, but Keith could still hear the gunshots, could still hear the sharp screams from Champion as they had held him down, debating on whether to save his arm or replace it. His screams had change from wordless cries to howls of Keith’s name. For a brief moment, he had seen Shiro in the Champion’s face, before the pain and shock had sent Shiro under. He then listened as they removed what was left of his arm, the sickening snap of bone and the ripping of his skin staying in the air even as they sutured and bandaged him. He listened to monitors showing that Shiro was still stable, and he listened as they planned on how to keep Champion useful even after being injured.

 

Now, he only had the steady beating of the other’s heart to remind him that he hadn’t lost the only thing that still meant something. As Keith held Shiro closer to him, he could feel the other stir, his body tensing until Keith let go.

 

“We failed our mission.” His voice cracked, dry from earlier. This had been Keith’s world for almost a week now, Shiro constantly waking for brief moments, recalling their mission with dull eyes, and Keith having to pacify Champion. Flare having to answer back to the Champion and not Shiro.

 

Keith couldn’t anymore. Champion watched as Keith fought back tears, before looking down to where Keith’s fingers dug into his good shoulder. He turned back to Keith’s face, his body rustling across the sheets.

 

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this. You should be more concerned that we failed.” Champion shifted away from Keith then, and when Keith moved to follow, he placed his hand between them. “You failed our mission, you should have left me.”

 

Keith gave a small laugh, hollow and sharp, then leaned his head against the headboard. He could feel Champion’s eyes on him. Eyes that would once follow the curve of his neck before tracing it with his fingers now watched for weakness, for the cracks Keith could no longer cover.

 

The stayed like that as the light in the room shifted into a grey, and then into lighter shadows. Champion did not move, and Keith distantly noted that this was the longest that he’d ever stayed awake. It meant that it wouldn’t be long before they would be back in the field. That soon, he could risk losing him yet again. Part of him wanted to go back on his promise now, go against the heroes and the possibility of escaping. What good would it be if Shiro would not make it as well? If Shiro would only die sooner than what Keith already anticipated.

 

Champion moved away, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Just as he shifted his weight to stand, Keith called out.

 

“Do you remember where they had found us? The little corner house near the main street,” Keith chuckled, at the skin where his tears had dried. “You called it the shack, because it was so run down.”

 

Champion didn’t answer, but instead turned to look down at him. Keith couldn’t tell if it was from the light, but for a moment he swore he could see Shiro struggling to answer back, to return to him. Keith clung to that, wanting to untangle Shiro with the small piece of him that Keith now had.

 

“They burned it down. You dragged me out one of the windows because I inhaled too much smoke, and made sure not to leave me.” Keith could feel tears returning, and he hoped that maybe Shiro felt them, too.

 

“You should have left me, Shiro. You should have let go and ran.”

 

The moment Shiro’s name left his mouth, Keith knew it was the wrong thing to say. As if by a sudden switch, Champion returned, and Keith was left alone on the bed. Left to stare at the other as he dressed in a rushed manner.

 

“I need to report to medical, I can’t be useless any longer. You should do the same with command.”

 

Keith watched as he lost Shiro again.

Shot Six

Haircut

_Choose your last words_

_This is the last time_

_Cause you and I_

_We were born to die_

_(Born to Die- Lana Del Rey)_

_A Year Ago_

Keith’s ears were ringing, and with each throb it felt like the room shifted beneath him, threatening to upturn him from where he lay.  The cell he was in was quiet now that the Galra had left him alone, but from beyond his cell’s door, he could hear the sharp cries and angry threats from where Shiro was held.

 

When Keith had come back from being sedated in the alley, Shiro had been with him. The Galra then realized, it was easier to break them while apart. Easier when they could only hear the pain the other experienced. Keith could only count his breaths when it was not his turn, he could only try and track the amount of time both were beaten. After the last few rounds, Keith knew it would last for almost an hour for each of them before a small respite. Keith assumed that outside of being unconscious, all of this had only happened within a few days, that maybe the team was searching for them.

 

At first, Keith was sure they were looking for information, for some way to crack the two heroes. By the end of the first round, Keith knew he was wrong. The Galra never asked questions, they would only make jabs at him, sneer at how helpless he and his partner were.

 

Keith counted twelve rounds before he and Shiro were brought to a large room, two seats next to each other lay before them. Keith had struggled, he had tried to break through the power dampeners, but not even a small thrum of energy had answered him back. Shiro was strapped down first, then Keith, and he could barely see the other from the corner of his eye as the helmet turned the previous throbbing aches and vertigo into an overpowering rush of light and spasms of agony. He could hear Shiro scream over his own. His senses began to stop as the pain continued, stretching further and further until he didn’t know if he could ever think again.

Shot Seven

Garrison Days

_Emily will find a better place to fall asleep_

_Maybe she will save me in the oceans of her dream_

_And maybe someday love_

_(Love Song Requiem- Trading Yesterday)_

Three Years Ago

 

When Keith opened the door, Shiro couldn’t help but grin at the sudden look of shock. The other was so animated at times, even if he denied it, and it was moments like this that Shiro wished he could stretch out and savor.

 

Even if it meant throwing a surprise party that Keith was adamant about not happening.

 

He and their team had waited for nearly an hour as Keith returned from his first mission. Just like his training days, it had gone perfectly, and he knew that the pride he felt was shared by the others, too. Shiro watched as Lance took a party popper from Hunk, and detonated it right in Keith’s face.

 

“Perfect mission, huh? Bet my first solo is going to be even better.”

 

Pidge snorted at that, before joining Lance in unleashing another popper on Keith, “I don’t think you can do better than perfect? It’s applied on already being the best. But eh, it’s you, you’d find a way.”

 

The two cackled at that, leaning against each other as they all watched Keith swiped the streamers off himself. The look he shot Shiro spoke of vengeance later, and Shiro knew it would happen when it was least expected. He only responded with a sweet smile before using his own popper on Keith.

 

Keith let out an exasperated groan, before turning to Hunk, Allura, and Coran. “Just get it over with.” They did, but unlike the others they showed mercy and didn’t fire them directly on him. Despite Keith complaining, Shiro could see the small smile forming in the corner of his lips, and when he turned to look again at him, his eyes had softened, as if saying, _look at them, look at us, this is my everything_.

 

It was then that Shiro moved in to pull Keith into a tight embrace, and even though Shiro knew the others were watching and making small puns about the newly official couple, Shiro couldn’t come up with a reason to ever let go--

 

\--It was with a look of savage glee that Keith took the streamers still in his hands, and shoved down his shirt and into his face. Shiro sputtered through the mouthful of flimsy paper, but he still couldn’t come up with a reason to regret any of this, to think of the warm weight against his chest as something that he could live without.

 

Keith wiggled from his hold, and moved to meet the others, and the team fell into the comfort each gave one another, laughing and joking through the night.

 

 

_Shot Eight_

_First_

_And in the dark, I can hear your heart beat_

_I tried to find the sound_

_But then, it stopped, and I was in the darkness_

_~~So I stayed in the darkness with you~~ _

_So darkness I became_

_(Cosmic Love- Florence & the Machines)_

_A Year Ago_

Shiro glared at his hands, watching the tendons move as he flexed his fingers, watching the water from the faucet drip from his skin and to the porcelain beneath them. As he clenched and unclenched his fingers, he wondered how he could have ever wrapped these around a person’s neck. He wondered how he could have channeled so much electricity from his hands and into another that their heart would stop, that the skin around the point of contact would sizzle and crack from the extremity of the energy.

 

He couldn’t wash his hands enough, he couldn’t help Keith wash his own.

 

He knew the other was waiting outside the door to get clean from the finished mission, he knew he’d already been standing before the sink for too long, his skin still grimed from the smoke that had come from his target when Shiro held on for far too long, because he just couldn’t let go.

 

_Why couldn’t he wash this off?_

A brief jolt ran through him, accidental as he had let his power escape his control. The water amplified it, making it race through him instead of away from him like it usually did. He continued to watch his hands, watched the muscles clench from the sudden pain.

 

He sent another wave. He let it continue longer, only a few seconds more, enough for the skin to redden near his wrists and around the veins of his forearms.

 

He let his eyes slide shut then, his back curling farther down until his forehead met the mirror and his hands pressed into the sink.

 

_It’d be so easy_

 

He wasn’t like Keith, he couldn’t cling to the good, cling to just memories of being a hero and not a murderer.

 

He couldn’t kill again, not when only once could do this much to him. Oh God, Keith, what would he even think if he knew this, if he could see how Shiro pushed electricity into the water, how he let it wash over him like some form of penance.

Like some form of execution.  The next jolt was longer, and he held it until a spike of the pain made him lose focus. He now rested all his weight on his arms, leaning lopsided against the counter. Shiro cursed at his weakness, at his inability to hold onto the energy long enough. He looked up at the mirror, head heavy and eyes struggling to focus, and turned his gaze towards the shower behind him. He didn’t hesitate.

 

Shiro didn’t allow himself time to think as he sat down under the spray, and then he couldn’t think as he listened to a scream escape his throat when the electricity became too much. He could hear Keith from the door, could hear the panic as he broke in and shouted for him. Keith also cried out in pain when he pulled Shiro from the water, and as they laid there on cold linoleum, Keith’s sobs and demands for answers overlapped with the wheezing of his own breath. He closed his eyes and wondered how he could ever help Keith wash this off as well.

 

It was later, when the Galra came for him, when he saw the panic in Keith’s eyes as they strapped him the Hades, that Shiro knew he would never get the chance.

 

As the machine surged into his mind, Shiro stopped thinking once again.

 

Shot Nine

Memories

_When I was younger, I was named_

_The generation unafraid_

_For the heirs to come, be brave._

_(Battlefield- Svrcina)_

It took all of Keith’s willpower to not attack Frost. The hero stood there, Archangel next to him, and the surge of heat building within Keith, within Flare, was almost too much for him to take. Flare was sure the only thing that stopped him was the hesitance Frost held within his frame, and the darting, downcast eyes of Archangel.

 

Archangel was the first to approach the small space between them, her shoulders tense. “I apologize, Flare. We did not realize you would be caught by our forces.” Her voice wavered through the air, ringing between the concrete walls around them.

 

Flare had been hesitant at first, meeting in such an obvious location like below one of the city’s bridges, but it was sheltered away from prying eyes and the sound of cars above would drown their voices from anyone who would listen in. Frost took the chance then to also come closer until he stood shoulder to shoulder with the other hero.

 

“We are sorry,” He sighed then, before lowering his hood. “Keith, we know you’re trusting us to help Shiro, and you. We wouldn’t break that.”

 

Keith bristled, and with a desperate push he forced the energy within him to settle, to stop threatening to break through his skin and ignite. “No, you don’t get it. I don’t trust you. You’re just a last attempt that I’m starting to question was even worth it.”

 

“Worth it? Keith, we told you each of us would help!” Archangel’s shout was louder than it should have been as it echoed around them, and the three froze until only the cars above could be heard. Keith waited for a moment, trying to gather the mess of thoughts that he couldn’t even begin to address let along categorize, and he could only hope that it was too dark for the heroes to see how his entire body shook.

 

“This was just a waste of time.” Keith made to move back and away from the other two, and damnit the shaking made it so hard for him to try and walk normally. It was like the fire he purposefully pushed down had been the only thing keeping him whole, and now he couldn’t even stay whole. Frost’s hand curled around the crook of his elbow, the grasp hard and the fingers like steel as it kept him from retreating further. His eyes met heated blue, and the grip tightened even more until it rested on the verge of too painful.

 

“No, you don’t just get to walk off again!”

 

Keith pushed with his free arm, desperate, and the shaking felt as if it increased tenfold. “You think we left on purpose? I get it Lance, you think we wanted to be hunted down. You think we wanted to be broken in.” Keith pushed against the other, the movement becoming repetitive, and soon the pushes barely held any strength at all. Lance’s grip had loosened as well, as if he could finally feel the tremble that shook Keith to his very bones.

 

“I can’t lose Shiro. Not again.” It came out of Keith in a rush, and the only thing he could do was to shut his eyes then, hoping to drown out the others, to drown out the echoes of his labored breathing. And oh, when had it gotten to this? He didn’t realize just how strong the tremors within himself had become, until it felt like his bones were cracking and that only  his tendons and muscles left him able to stand, if barely.

 

 Lance’s grip returned then, more gentle than befre, and soon Keith found himself between Lance and Allura, their arms holding in the shaking, making his body meld together again until the his body stopped. As Keith calmed, he could focus on the cooler skin of Lance’s cheek against his own, and the brush of hair from Allura against the back of his neck. His trembling, while calmer than before, had now spread to the others. It took a while before any spoke again, but neither Allura or Keith interrupted Lance when they heard muffled voice.

 

“We looked up to you and Shiro, Keith.” Lance moved then, putting distance between himself and Keith, but he continued to hold on to Keith’s arm. Allura did the same, and soon Keith was yet again face to face with them.

 

“I know you never liked to admit it, but you were second in command. You helped lead us when Shiro couldn’t. You protected us when we couldn’t.” Lance’s voice grew thick as he spoke, and as he stopped to breath, Keith watched as it rested in his throat, burying his voice away. Allura stepped in, then, her voice as heavy as Lance’s and Keith knew it took so much for her to speak smoothly.

 

“We aren’t that team anymore, Keith, but we won’t stop protecting each other. You told us Shiro is dying, you’ve told us what the Galra did. We won’t stop now, not until both of you are back home with us.”

 

Keith held her gaze, and with their arms still on his, he reached up to grasp their own. He felt the same pit in his throat like Lance, and found that he could only nod. He held on for a while longer, before letting go and stepping back. The shaking returned with their absence, and he fought again to hold it back.

 

“Then we need to plan better, we can’t afford to make any more mistakes. Either of us.”

Shot Ten

Prosthetic

_Kiss my lips feel the rhythm of your heart and hips_

_I will pray so the castle we’ve built won’t cave._

_(Guillotine- Jon Bellion)_

The prosthetic was sleek, barely noticeable under Champion’s kevlar sleeves, but Keith had seen what it could do. He had been in the medic ward when they first connected it to numbed nerves and the scarred remains of Champion’s arm, and he had watched as Sendak made him us it against another Galra pawn. As his body surged with electricity, the prosthetic had absorbed the current, the metal gaining more and more heat until the fingers and palm glowed an off white.

 

The other’s powers didn’t last long against Champion, and Keith watched wide eyed, his face paled from shock, as the arm melted through flesh and bone when the man could no longer dodge the blows. Champion just stood there, peering down at the body, unbothered by the smell of charred skin and muscle. Sendak clapped, breaking the silence, and as Champion’s attention shifted the glow died off until only the sleek metal of the prosthetic showed. Sendak came to stand before champion, looking up at Keith with a wide grin.

 

“I wonder if your own abilities would give you some immunity to Champion’s new ability.” Keith could see the thoughts swirling in Sendak’s mind, and with a wave of his hand, Champion followed Sendak until both stood before Keith.

 

“I must know, Flare, how well Champion can deal with threats. Both within and out on the streets. Perhaps a spar between you two would help sometime soon.”

 

Keith tried not to hesitate, the idea of fighting against Shiro again mixing with the sudden spike of fear, of not knowing how much information Sendak already had, “Within, sir?”

 

Sendak motioned for the two to follow him, and soon the three made their way through the halls towards the command room.

 

“Mission data that is considered classified has been given to the Garrison. Field operations within the last few weeks have been compromised and our agents unable to complete their objectives.”

 

“Are we to hunt them, sir?”

 

Sendak stopped then, his hand resting above the door panel to the command room. “You will not. Champion has already been given his mission parameters in searching for the traitor.” The door opened, and Keith was greeted with the faces of four others, all elites.

 

“Haxus, Thace, Throk, and myself will be accompanying you on the next mission. An event will have several Garrison officials attending this weekend, including the Commander Iverson and Alfor of the sister academy on the East Coast.”                   

 

Keith nodded in response to Sendak, his mind racing as he wondered how he could even warn the Garrison in time. Keith gave a passing glance to Champion, then, and froze as he saw dull eyes looking at him, observing how Keith had reacted.

Shot Eleven

Peridot

_Fire-crackers in the east my car parked south_

_Your hands on my cheeks, your shoulder in my mouth_

_I was up against the wall on the west mezzanine_

_We rattle this town, we rattle this scene_

_(Anna Sun- Walk the Moon)_

_Five Years Ago_

Keith’s laughter was contagious as he bent his head over the sofa arm, his chest heaving in gulps of air. Shiro joined him, leaning in to wrap his arms around Keith’s waist. His laugh slowed before stopping as Shiro then buried his nose in to his side and letting the calm that only came from Keith wash over him.

 

He nuzzled deeper as Keith’s hands met with his hair, slowly brushing back against his hair before burying deep to rub against his scalp. Shiro was lightly joslted as a pleased huff of breath escaped from Keith’s lips. Shiro melted, and let his weight fully settle against Keith’s hips. The two had decided on a quiet night after finally completing the last of their training, and soon they would begin orientation and team training before being sent to the field.

Now, though, Shiro let himself forget what lay ahead for the two of them. He focused on the sound of Keith’s heartbeats, on the warmth that never seemed to wane from Keith’s skin. He could tell the other was doing the same as fingers left his hair and instead roamed down his neck, circling around his shoulders before resting against his arms. Shiro looked up then, moving upwards until his forehead met with Keith’s, and whispered against his lips.

 

“Hello.”

 

Keith responded with a smile, his eyes bright in the shadows their bodies made.

 

“Hello, too.”

 

The kisses were easy, easy like when they sparred against one another, easy like calling up electric currents, but Shiro was so sure that none of the currents he’d ever made had ever left him as breathless as Keith could. He couldn’t get enough of the soft sighs Keith made, of the slight pressure against his stomach as Keith moved against him, urging Shiro to deepen their embrace.

 

Shiro obeyed Keith’s body, moving as hands moved to his waist, to the back of his neck. He rolled his body closer as fingers tightened and as breathes became gasps, silent pleading for him to not stop. Shiro needed to though, he needed to show Keith sometime before the night was lost to touches and kisses. Shiro giggled as Keith huffed and threw his head back, and even when he returned to see Keith pouting at him, he still couldn’t shake the surge beneath his skin, the excitement that centered around what was within his closed fist.

 

Keith froze then, the pout leaving as his eyes darted from Shiro’s face to his closed hand. Shiro took the moment of silence to move back on top of Keith, his legs straddling Keith’s hips and without thinking Keith moved his hands to rest against them. Shiro swallowed as he looked down at Keith, and he could feel his heart stop as steady eyes stared back up, open and content in a way that Keith rarely showed others. It took Shiro two tries, stumbling over his words. Keith tightened his hold on his thighs, his own way to encourage Shiro.

 

“Keith, we made it through so much together, and I know we’ll make it through so much more.”

 

As Shiro spoke, Keith moved until he was also sitting, his back supported by the sofa arm. He continued to look up at Shiro, but now his eyes were wide, his mouth opened in surprise. Shiro continued, gaining momentum as he watched Keith respond to his words.

 

“All I know, is that I never want to do it without you, babe. I don’t want to ever let you go.” He opened his hand then, letting Keith stare down at the ring resting in Shiro’s palm. It was a tarnished silver in color, with an emerald green peridot resting within curls of swirling silver. He took Keith’s hand then, holding it loosely in case Keith tried to move away. It proved to only be a passing concern when Keith let Shiro slip it on to his finger, and Shiro forgot it even existed as he brought Keith’s hand up to kiss it.

 

“Maybe not now, maybe not until years in the future, Keith, but I want you to know that I am giving you all of me, no matter what.”

 

Keith moved, pressing his chest against his and lacing his hands around Shiro’s neck to bring his lips down to his own. It felt desperate, like the moment could disappear, and Shiro tightened his grip around Keith to chase the feeling away. Keith broke the kiss as Shiro’s arms tightened, and instead buried his face against his neck, his arms wrapping around Shiro as well to keep himself steady.

 

“I love you, Shiro. No matter what.”

 

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

Shot Twelve

Free day

(Never Taken AU)

_My hands are searching for you_

_My arms are outstretched towards you_

_I feel you on my fingertips_

_My tongue dances behind my lips for you_

_(All Around Me- Flyleaf)_

 

The team watched from the table of honor as the two lovesick morons, Pidge’s declared title for her teammates, grinned at each other, their hands clasped tight as they leaned into the other’s side. Their first dance was going so smoothly, and with all the effort Pidge had placed in the stereo and audio equipment she knew it would have no reason to malfunction.

 

She and the others had placed so much effort in this; she had watched Lance work for almost three days straight on the ice sculptures dotting the banquet table, and the ceremony itself had taken place beneath outcrops of rock that Hunk had formed. And Allura, both she and Coran had managed not only to include everything Shiro and Keith had wanted, but had somehow made their incredibly different expectations and plans fuse seamlessly together.

 

Now, she had front row seats to as much romantic blackmail as she could ever need.

 

She’d give them some peace, though, she didn’t want to make those smiles dim anytime soon. Lance leaned against her then, bringing her out from her thoughts. He gestured his hands toward the ceiling after making sure she was watching, and with a sudden dip in temperature, the space above the two shimmered as pieces of ice dipped and swirled around Keith and Shiro. The wedding guests let out small noises of awe, and after staring at the spectacle above their heads, both Shiro and Keith looked at Lance, eyes wide at the sudden display.

 

Sometimes, Pidge couldn’t imagine how all of this had happened. How she managed to find a new family that she’d die for. How she watched her friends fall even more in love then they had been when she first met them. Or how her own admiration and love for her team never seemed to stop. She glanced away from Shiro and Keith then, turning to see the smiles of Hunk and Allura, how Lance could never seem to stop having physical contact with them.

 

Coran sat at the end, and for a moment their eyes met, both sharing a knowing look, before Pidge stood up and latched on to Hunk and Lance, dragging them towards the dance floor while shouting at Allura and Coran to join her for the next song. As they and other guests filled the dance floor, she marked each time Hunk’s hands met her own, each moment Lance’s laughter filled the air, and each time she could see Allura watching them with a face full of contentment, and Pidge could only grin as she felt the positive energy seeping through the air around her.

 

It was so lively, the energy peaking as Shiro lifted Keith in his arms to spin in lazy circles only to stop with reddened cheeks and silly smiles as Lance joined in and demanded a dance with the smaller man. Hunk took over with Shiro, and Pidge could only think of how life itself would not be as complete without each of them.

 

As she finally met with Keith, and then Shiro for a dance, she found herself repeating words to both of them, and she found that she couldn’t recall a time that she had been more sincere.

 

“I’m so proud of you two.”

Shot Thirteen

Party

_Don’t stand again_

_Don’t stand again_

_And I thought maybe we could save ourselves_

_But they shot us down._

_(The Home We Made- Crywolf)_

Sendak’s words still resonated through Keith, and the hollow within his stomach had expanded towards his chest, within his lungs until it took everything Keith had to pretend that he was alright.

 

And Shiro.

 

Despite everything the Galra had done, despite breaking Shiro and making Keith watch, they had never fully separated them. They had never cut away every form of connection, and the desperation of wanting to escape, of wanting to find Shiro and run until no one could find them was eating through Keith as the hollow grew. Not only gutting him, but thinning him out from the inside, and he was just so tired of pretending anymore.

 

The three elites with him- Haxus, Sendak, and Thace- wouldn’t allow time for Keith to crumble, however, and as the war bared its teeth inside his chest and his stomach in preparation to gouge him from the inside out, Keith listened and followed their orders. The party itself was much more extravagant compared to past Garrison parties he attended. Servers weaved through the crowds, and people flocked together is large and small groups, laughing and creating idle patches of small talk.

 

None of them saw the threat that walked besides them. Keith had separated from the group as they expanded their presence in the gala ballroom, and as Keith had kept an eye out for the possibility of running in to the elites, he also tried to seek out any familiar face from his former team. It took longer than it should have, and Keith had found himself almost colliding with more than a few guests and servers with their arms full of champagne trays.

 

He saw Allura first, near the edge of the ballroom with Coran standing next to her, and her eyes widened with shock as he approached them,

 

“Allura, where are Iverson and your father?” He spoke quickly, his eyes darting around before he moved himself and the others towards a separate hall. As they turned the corner, Allura rounded on him her frame stiffening as she confronted him.

 

“Why would you need to know that?” she paused then, before her eyes widened in horror, “There are other Galra here. An ambush.” Keith could only nod, and as he watched Allura look at Coran, a small part of the weight within him chipped away knowing the team could deal with this.

 

“I have to follow through with my mission, Allura. They can’t know yet.”

 

Coran and Allura nodded, and both quickly left to seek out the others, leaving Keith behind in the back hallways. He switched his com on then, giving a quick report on his status before moving farther down the hall. He barely made it partway down the corridor before large hands clawed at the back of his shirt, lifting him from the ground and then throwing him into an adjacent room.

 

Keith rolled to take most of the impact from his shoulders and back, and when he rose to meet the threat he could only freeze his fists loosening in shock. Sendak stood before him, and the face that was always so amused at their pain now glowered, heated like the fire rushing through Keith to prepare for a new threat.

 

“I wasn’t sure the traitor was you, just imagining such a pathetic person trying to stop us? Trying to stand on their feet again!”

 

Sendak roared through the last of his words, charging Keith. He barely dodged it, feeling the edge of Sendak’s hand clip his shoulder. He darted below his arms then, calling a surge of flame to cover his hands and then aimed for the underside of Sendak’s ribs. He felt cloth burn, could smell the brief singe of skin, before a sharp knee sent him crashing into the wall. A new set of footsteps arrived at the doorway as Keith struggled for breath, and with blurred eyes he could see the shadowed outline of Haxus taking in his new surroundings.

 

Sendak walked closer then, the wood creaking below his feet until he stood over Keith. “I wonder how we should do this. Kill you now, or let Champion do it for us.”

 

Keith lunged, eyes burning as his lungs still wouldn’t properly fill with air, and it was oh so easy for Sendak to catch his arm, his grip tightening until Keith couldn’t stop a whine from leaving his mouth. He felt his flame lick up his arms and onto Sendak’s, but the other still wouldn’t let go, his grimace of pain becoming a snarl as he tightened his hold.

 

“I wonder if he would even care if he saw your mangled body.”

 

A cut off breath followed by a crunch of bone sounded from the other side of the room, capturing both Keith’s attention. Haxus had crumpled only feet from the doorway, and from Keith could see his head was bent at an unnatural angle, almost to the point of being detached. Standing above the body was Thace, his arms still outstretched from killing Haxus. Sendak roared, the vibrations moving through his arms and into Keith’s, and for a moment as Sendak’s attention shifted, he could feel the grip on his arms loosen.

 

Sendak’s rage was cut short as Keith plunged a handful of fire into his chest, feeling ribs shatter and muscle tear until the fire itself met Sendak’s heart. Both Thace and Keith were silent as his body crumbled to the ground, dead before it even landed. The two stared at the dead Galra before looking back to one another, and as Keith prepared for another fight Thace simply lifted his hands in a peaceful gesture before backing away from Keith.

 

“You should learn to hide better, Keith. If it wasn’t for myself and Ulaz, your actions would have been uncovered long ago.”

 

Keith’s flames died out as he tried to piece together what he was just told, his eyes darting between Thace and the fallen elites. “You want me to just believe that you’ve helped me. Out of everyone else that the Galra have used?” Keith glared, and just as quickly as his flame had died out, it now surged forth until he couldn’t contain it within himself, “I’m not a fucking idiot!”

 

Thace lifted his hands higher thing, “We’re helping you, because for the first time we have seen a chance for the Galra to be destroyed from the inside.”

 

Keith let Thace’s words sink in, and he mulled the idea over, that elites could be working against other Galra. As if choosing for him, the fire that rushed around him lowered before dying completely out.

 

 

Shot Fourteen

Meteor Shower

_Empty house far away, lost in lonely space,_

_You know you’ve felt the same._

_From the shallows in love to the depths of your scars._

_You know you want to change._

_(Fearless- Falling Up)_

It took days before Keith could meet with the team again due to the Galra being in such a disarray once Sendak and Haxus’s bodies had been found. Keith had only been able to find himself the opportunity to sneak away with Thace’s help, the other not only creating an alibi, but then leading Keith through a network of corridors that Keith had never realized where connected to a seldom used exit. The help came with a cost, however, as Keith soon found himself trying to mediate between the heroes and Thace.

 

“I understand you and Shiro, Keith, I get the whole trying to escape, but a Galra? And an elite?” Hunk’s voice was shrill, edged with not only concern and disbelief, but also with the anger that the other heroes radiated from stiff postures and narrowed eyes.

 

Allura nodded along with Hunk, her gaze never leaving Thace. “I agree with Hunk, he is not welcomed here. No one who willingly sides with those monsters should ever belong here.”

 

Thace moved forward then, and Keith could see the flicker of irritation that escape the composed expression Thace always masked himself with. “My colleges and myself have never sided with the Galra, Archangel. We have worked and labored over bringing them down, and through trial and error, we’ve found it to be more successful when it is done from within.”

 

Pidge’s voice echoed then, flat yet still managing to emanate anger, “Yet somehow you’ve never managed to stop them.”

 

They continued to bicker, and Keith found himself only being able to listen in as he was constantly interrupted by both Thace and the heroes. After yet again being talked over by Allura, Keith finally let flickers of flame leak into his hand before throwing it between the two parties. They stopped then, blinking owlishly before turning to look at Keith.

 

With controlled breaths, he finally spoke, “I don’t care if he’s Galra, or if you can’t wrap your minds around this, the only thing that matters is getting Shiro out.”

 

The silence continued, huffs of exerted breath calming until both sides managed to control their anger. Pidge was the first to speak, “Keith is right. From what we’ve been told, Shiro has been under Hades’ influence for too long already. Time is running out.”

 

“How should we move, then? How can Thace and his team help Keith within the Galra’s headquarters?” Hunks’ reply was quick, following right after Pidge stopped speaking. Thace was quiet as he thought over what Hunk said, his brow furrowed until he looked back up to them.

 

“We can begin to plant cameras and recorders and start a stockpile of evidence for the Garrison. If we can destroy Hades, and cripple the Galra, we’ll have more possibilities for Shiro to be saved.”

 

“And Keith, too.” Coran’s voice was soft, and when the others looked at him his face was hardened. He continued then, “We’ve spent this whole time on Shiro, but what about the other victims. This is so much larger than just crippling the Galra or saving a single person.”

 

“Shiro would want that, I think.” Keith voice was equally as soft, almost too quiet to hear. “He wouldn’t want others to suffer for his own sake.”  The team nodded, their heads bowed as even more weight was added on to the mission.

 

“Then we will focus on the larger picture, but if we have the choice, I won’t leave Shiro behind.” Allura’s voice broke with the hush, and Keith watched as the others focused in on what she meant, nodding in unison. As he watched, Keith could again feel the pull of hope, or the possibility of making it out of all this while still being whole.

Shot Fifteen

_Abstract_

_I’ll be the one to protect you from_

_Your enemies and all your demons_

_I’ll be the one to protect you from_

_A will to survive and a voice of reason_

_(Counting Bodies Like Sheep- A Perfect Circle)_

The vacuum of power from Sendak’s death was simultaneously the best, and the worst thing Keith had experienced. Without him or Haxus breathing over his shoulder, Keith found he could test boundaries more. Like with how  he was spending most of his evenings creating logistics and plans. When Thace revealed himself and Ulaz, both wanted to immediately meet with Keith one they returned from talking to Allura and the others. With an elite behind his movements, it was distressingly easy, and Keith could only feel a sharp jab of embitterment when he compared this to his espionage and actions from the last month or so.

 

However, talking to Ulaz did not help. The other man was calm, and so willing to accomdate, but being near him set Keith on edge. Even as the man shifted into such a soft image of what Keith was used to, even when Thace assured him, he couldn’t see those hands doing anything except holding Shiro down while others secured straps. He could hear both himself and Shiro pleading and then screaming in pain. Ulaz smiled at him, and softened his gaze when he would talk to Thace, and Keith could only see sharpened teeth.

 

It was after their second meeting that Thace had cornered him, his body sharp and coiled, “We cannot help unless we trust one another.”

 

Keith glared at him, his own body withdrawing, storing energy to use once Thace struck. The other noticed, and as if a string was no longer attached to him, his body slumped.

 

“Keith, you have trusted me, but I am just as guilty as Ulaz. I’ve hunted down people like you, I was almost chosen on the assignment that brought you two in.”

 

“But you didn’t hurt Shiro, Ulaz did.” Keith’s words were stiff, barren of emotion.

 

Thace nodded, “And just as easily, it could have been me instead.”

 

Keith forced himself to unwind, and slowly glanced back up until both he and Thace stared at each other’s eyes. “You helped me with Sendak, Thace. That is the only reason why we’re doing this together.”

 

“Then if we’re working as one, you need to trust Ulaz as well.” Thace tampered off into a low whisper, both looking towards the figure rounding the nearby corner. Champion faced them, gaze intent on Keith before shifting to Thace.

 

“I am to inform you of the new commander being placed at our base. He wishes to see both you and Ulaz.”

 

Thace nodded, and left the two alone to alert Ulaz. Keith gave himself only a moment to stare after Thace before turning to Champion. The other was silent, eyes looking over Keith, and deep within himself we could feel line fractures, shifts from the seams that held him together. He missed Shiro, missed him when in moments like these he couldn’t remember how Shiro even looked when he had once smiled at him or how his eyes would lighten with fondness.

 

Now, even as they planned to save him, what would it require? Would Keith have to fight him, or hurt him? He couldn’t separate Champion from Shiro when he imagined that.

 

“Will you walk with me?” Champion’s words broke through Keith, and with a slight nod the two began down the hall. Keith let the echo of their footsteps fill the silence, words bubbling yet halting in his throat, and he struggled with it until he finally pushed them out.

 

“How is the search? Has anyone been caught yet?”

 

Champion did not answer right away, and after a moment, Keith looked up to see why. His face was scrunched up along his brow, and for once his eyes were not the same dull color as Keith had grown used to. Keith could see the struggle, could see an inner fight, and just as soon as Keith identified the rush of emotions on Shiro’s face, they dissipated. Champion looked down to him then, and gave him a small smile that made Keith’s hair stand on edge.

 

“I think I almost have.”

 

Keith continued to stay silent as both he and Champion returned to their room, and he stayed that way until hours later when Thace brought him back to finish talking with him and Ulaz. The two were angered when Keith arrived, whispering amongst themselves, and Keith caught the names Prorok and Lotor before the two ended their conversation to acknowledge him. Ulaz gave him a small smile, and both he and Thace looked shocked then pleased when Keith tried to return it.

 

He didn’t have time anymore to fight other battles. Not for himself. Not for the team. Not for Shiro. Not when he didn’t even know how they could save him.

 

The three discussed the new commander then, Prorok, and Thace sneered as he spoke. “He isn’t even a true commander. Just a pawn for Lotor to use without actually being here.”

 

Ulaz nodded, eyes narrowed in thought. “This could be either an advantage, or a serious risk. Nothing escapes Lotor’s eyes, Keith. We may need to stop placing spyware and cameras around the base.”

 

“Do we even have enough?” Keith asked, his voiced low.

 

Ulaz paused to think, before looking up when Thace answered instead. “If we only plan to get Shiro out, then yes. But no if we wish to continue syphoning information after.”

 

Keith rose from his seat, briefly pacing before looking back at them. “I’ll tell the team. They agreed to help Shiro, but they need to know what it’ll cost.”

 

The other two nodded, and with brief goodbyes, Keith darted back to his room. He could see Shiro’s shadowed figure as he entered, his body moving with each inhale. Keith drifted towards him, his feet sliding slowly across the ground to minimize any sound before slipping beneath the sheets. He’d taught himself since Shiro left him to keep distance, to not allow himself the chance to re-familiarize himself with the other. 

 

But he couldn’t stop himself as he reached to brush his fingers against Champion’s back, pretending that it was Shiro there instead.

Shot Sixteen

Bad Idea

_Love to blame_

_The burden of my dreams_

_Cause our faith is blessed, and I believe_

_I believe, I believe_

_(Search and Destroy – 30STM)_

The team hadn’t been happy, and Keith watched as they stood before him as one, any trust that had been resurfacing now tearing apart. Keith growled in frustration, and he raised his hands between himself and them, as if gestures could help fix this.

 

“We weren’t expecting such a sudden change of power. If we continue to plant devices, we’ll put everything at risk.”

 

Lance’s answer was cool, and while he looked the most relaxed in comparison to the rest, Keith could see the tensing of muscles in his jaw, “The same shift that happened after you forgot to tell us about bashing the gala.”

 

The room twisted with Keith’s surge of anger, the ground and walls rolling until they seemed to crash into Keith to bend and fracture him as well. He felt himself bare his teeth, his hands shaking, and he barely noticed how Lance’s anger thawed into worry.

 

“I didn’t have a choice.” His reply was hoarse, his breath light, and he had a sudden notion to check behind him, to check to see if hands were reaching for his throat. He pushed it down, swallowing, and as the room’s shifting began to die down, he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders.

 

Hunk stared at him, and he continued to hold on while he spoke. “We told you we’d help you save Shiro.” He looked back towards the others, towards Lance and Coran, Allura and Pidge, and they all nodded in agreement.

 

“It’s hard to trust you, Keith. I’m not going to lie. But, man, reactions like yours can’t be faked.”

 

Keith tried to answer, and moved his hands to push Hunk away only for Lance to come closer. “You won’t tell us what happened, and we won’t force you. But we aren’t the same anymore, Keith,” Lance’s gestured wildly as he spoke without looking at him, “this, this isn’t our team. This isn’t you and Shiro being heroes.”

 

Keith nodded, and even though Hunk’s hands braced him, he felt as if he was about to fall. Then Pidge sniffed, her voice sounding wet, and when Keith looked towards her he was surprised to see the wet streaks on her cheeks.

 

“God, we suck at this. Keith, we mean that even if we wanted to, we can’t treat this as what we used to have. And it isn’t because you’re villains, it’s because you’re victims,” She pushed Hunk and Lance away then until she stood before Keith, her eyes never leaving his. “And as heroes, we save those who need help, even if they can normally protect themselves.”

Shot Seventeen

Past

_I died each time you look away_

_My heart, my life, will never be the same_

_This love will take my everything_

_One breathe, one touch, will be the end of me._

_(Love Song Requiem- Trading Yesterday)_

_A Year Ago_

Keith was convinced Shiro was still there, that if he looked long enough he could still see the love in his eyes.

 

The Galra didn’t allow him to think that for long.

 

It was a few weeks after he had found Shiro’s body convulsing underneath the shower’s spray of water, and then watching his body convulse yet again as they exposed him to Hades for longer than either of them had been before. He had learned to obey as quickly as possible since, threats of Shiro being placed under the machine again if he did not would rain down on him if he did not meet their standards. And the threats of making Shiro kill himself since he had tried so hard to before, that they may as well just give him what he wished for. Keith wouldn’t let either happen, and so he had arrived at the training room within minutes of being summoned.

 

Before him was an elite named Sendak, and behind him stood Shiro. Unease crawled down Keiths spine then, and it continued to twist and spike into the rest of his body until his fingers felt numb as Sendak spoke.

 

“Our Champion has not been able to enter the field or train since his last session with Hades,” Sendak smiled, cold, cutting, as he beckoned Shiro to stand before him, “As his partner, you should make certain he is fit, Flare. You both have a new mission in a week.”

 

Sendak then made his way towards the door, his handprint opening the mechanics. “Begin.”

 

Shiro lunged then, his hands wreathed in electricity, aiming for Keith’s chest, at his heart. Keith turned from it, following the motion of his body as he twisted and bended to avoid Shiro’s attacks.

 

It didn’t take long before the pain of seeing blank, dull eyes staring at him with no recognition caused him to falter, and Keith could barely hold back a cry as electricity raced up the nerves in his chest where Shiro struck.

 

Keith stumbled to the ground, and Shiro followed, pinning him down as the electricity faded and hands instead reached for his throat, pressing down so hard that Keith could feel cartilage and muscle grind painfully against each other as he failed to gasp down air.

 

Desperate, Keith managed to fit his leg against Shiro’s ribs, his foot pressing into the sensitive expanse of his stomach, and he kicked out as hard as he could. Shiro’s grip weakened, but still stayed, and Keith kicked again, hard enough to knock Shiro back.

 

As Keith struggled to his feet, his body curling defensively as he struggled to regain breath, he searched for any sign, any at all, that Shiro would stop, that Shiro was only following orders. That maybe he would just wake up, speak to him, reassure him that he was back and that he’d never leave him, that he was still there for him.  Only blank eyes, so dull unlike the bright silver Keith loved, stared back at him. Unforgiving and remorseless, and oh God, Keith didn’t know if he could hurt him.

 

Shiro fell in to offensive position, charging him like they would when they had been trainees at the Garrison, and Keith remembered how Shiro would pin him, laughter in his eyes as Keith would squirm and try to find a hold before giving up, falling limp with Shiro above him. Shiro would kiss him then, rubbing fingers against parts where he might have hit too hard, his hands caressing him as if to relieve pain.

 

Now, fingers dug in deep against already bruised muscle. Hands continued to pin him down whenever the chance arose, and Shiro did not stop, did not waver, he followed the order Sendak had given to fight with no time limit. Keith wondered if they were watching them now, seeing who would collapse first, if Shiro would continue to beat Keith until he died. Would they end it before then? Did they want to see if Keith would kill him in self-defense?

 

When Sendak finally returned, it was when Shiro had Keith against a wall, his fists making a bloodied mess of his face. Shiro himself, despite quivering muscles and sweat dripping from his face, only had bruises from where Keith had used force to keep him away. Sendak’s hands replaced Shiro’s as he forced him away before leaning closer to Keith, that cold smile still present.

 

“Don’t forget this.  You are both ours. If I tell him to kill himself, he will. If I tell him to kill you, he will. I will let him see your corpse, Flare. I’ll let him watch as you stop breathing.”

 

Keith could only respond with a choked breath from the blood dripping down his throat from his nose and his bitten tongue and from the pain Sendak’s words added on to what he already felt. He let himself go limp, and lower his eyes in respect. He felt Sendak’s fingers loosen as Keith submitted and then completely let go after Keith responded.

 

“We won’t ever fail you.”

 

Shot Eighteen

Right Hand

_Don’t you dare look out your window,_

_Darling everything is on fire_

_The war outside our door keeps marching on_

_(Safe and Sound- Taylor Swift ft. The Civil Wars)_

Champion woke when he felt the sheets shift to cover another, and in the darkness of both his and Flare’s room, he could see the other finally settle. He listened as the other’s breathing evened out, and he felt the headaches return as warmth from Flare’s body met his own.

 

When he had first awoken, still strapped to Hades, he saw Flare watching in horror, lips drawn tight to hold back his cries. There were moments when Flare would still look at him like his skin wasn’t his own, as if Champion was everything he both feared and hated combined. Yet, Ulaz had suggested them sharing a room, and Champion had seen how Flare would unwind, how his eyes would soften when he would leave sleep and look at him. He would watch as the eyes would then harden, how he shied away like a wounded animal.

 

Flare lived in contradictions, and he dragged Champion alongside him into it. He brought pain, searing headaches each time he called him Shiro. He brought sudden moments of confusion, of forgetfulness.

 

Flare made him question not only the Galra, but himself.

 

Made him question why the name Champion never seemed to settle right, how it rubbed sores against him where it pressed wrong each time Flare spoke. His name didn’t make him proud when he was near Flare.

 

Champion turned his head to stare at Flare, following the dips of the lightened parts of his face. He wondered how it would look when those lips would smile, if his eyes crinkle with the flexing of muscle, if his forehead would crease up from all the frowning he now did. He wondered if his face would smooth out in shock once Champion revealed his discoveries.

 

He’d already told Prorok, and with all the hushed meetings both had surmised Ulaz and Thace’s involvement as well. It’d open an entire network of other potential spies shattered throughout other bases, and Prorok was already preparing to send Champion out.

 

Champion reached a hand out then, lightly placing it against Flare’s throat. Would Flare give him that hurt look, or would it be anger? The burning accumulation of rage and pain Flare wore like a second skin. Would he wake up If Champion would press down harder, choke out that name,

 

_Would Keith forgive him?_

 

Champion jerked back, the bed shaking from the movement, and he froze as Flare shifted before resettling. His head pounded, the bones of his skull and vertebrae feeling so frail and brittle in comparison to the expanding and compressing of pain. It’d only be a while longer, only a bit more, and then it would stop hurting.

Shot Nineteen

Galra

_I took the stars from your eyes_

_And then I made a map_

_I knew that somehow,_

_I could find my way back._

_(Cosmic Love- Florence & the Machines)_

Keith was torn when Prorok announced that he and Champion would work together again. It was a chance, one that he and all the others had been waiting for.

 

But Champion’s smile at the news was predatory, sharp like Prorok’s, and as Champion stood next to him with another target before them, Keith only felt dread rushing in his veins, pushing and pulling throughout him until nothing felt right.

 

Thace had assured him before leaving that the target would make it out, that he and Ulaz would be on the sidelines and corresponding with the team, and while Keith knew that soon the danger threatening Shiro would end, he couldn’t help but feel that the danger had changed in to a new form behind the old.

 

Champion was quiet, the coms silent, but everything felt too loud, like there was too much static around him.

 

Keith allowed himself to fall into being Flare as Champion moved forward, he let himself flank the target until he stood behind him when Champion moved closer towards the kill. He watched as Champion hesitated in confusion, and then in shock when their target removed their hood, and Frost stood there instead. He was quick, encasing Champion’s legs in ice before moving it further up his body, and Keith flinched when he saw Champion’s lips turned blue form the cold.

 

From over Frost’s shoulders, he glared at Keith, his teeth chattering as he hissed, “Traitor!”

 

Archangel joined them, moving from the shadows with Craft by her side. Adamant was further down from them, monitoring from a distance. Keith moved from behind Frost, and he felt frozen as well like it was his own body encased. 

 

“I’m doing this for you, Shiro. We all are.”

 

From behind, a gunshot shook both Keith and Frost, and a loud thump resounded as the ice around Champion’s prosthetic shattered from the sudden bullet. Champion sneered at them, ignoring the alarmed shouts from the others as he used his arm to shatter the rest of the ice.

 

Shot Twenty

Rocket

_Turn the lights down low_

_Walk these halls alone_

_We can feel so far, from so close_

_(Ships in the Night- Mat Kearny)_

It was Frost that saved Keith from having his throat being ripped apart by Champion, but even with the save he could still feel the pain of fingertips burning his skin. Craft threw up a wall then, the clinking of metal and plastic becoming so loud, and Keith couldn’t think.

 

He felt Frost’s hand curling around his arm, yelling at him to fall back as Adamant loosened the ground so that Frost could form a wall with rumble and ice. As Keith forced his mind back, and tried to refocus, another bullet shot through from behind, barely missing Adamant’s head.

 

They had run, then, as bullets skimmed by, some lucky enough to graze them. Craft had managed to distract them long enough for them to disappear down the side roads, and Keith found himself within a familiar, old safe house, dusty from disuse. He wondered, through the building panic, if they had even touched this place since they were taken. He decided that he didn’t want to know.

 

Allura was pacing near the front door, the phone Thace had given to her clenched tightly as she spoke in a barely calm voice, and the others would jerk each time she accidentally spoke too loudly, the anxiety in her tone escaping. Prorok had known, Champion had known Ulaz told then over the speaker. They had fled the base, and Thace was near useless now with a stomach wound.

 

Ulaz had assured them they were safe, but it was implied they would not be able to join them, and neither would the other members of their group. Ulaz insisted that reaching out would only wrap the noose around other necks as well.

 

Keith found that he couldn’t bring up enough energy to care now, it was over.

 

Keith also found that he deserved the slap from Pidge when he voiced those thoughts. He and the others watched as her chest heaved, her entire body shouting that she was livid. She would have been so much better with the fire abilities.

 

“We didn’t come this far to just fucking give up, Keith!” Her words were quick, but they hung heavily in the air and over Keith.

 

He responded with the same quickness, his words vicious, “We have no way to get in, no way to destroy Hades from the inside now. They may have already killed him to prevent further insurgency.”

 

“Or they might still use him to get to us.” Coran’s voice was steady, so much calmer than anyone else. Keith wanted to trust him, he wanted to fall back on those words.

 

Instead he shook his head, “Sendak always threatened to kill him if I disobeyed.” Keith blinked, pausing for a moment, “Or have him kill me.” He whispered the last part. He turned then, facing the others, desperation and panic merging as one until his voice was shrill.

 

“Save him, you understand? Save him, not me.”

 

Allura raised her hands, trying to calm Keith, “We’re going to save him, and you, Keith. All of us are going to get out of this together.”

 

Keith laughed, his voice shaking, “You say that like we might even have the choice.” Coran tried to come closer, and the other heroes stayed back as Coran moved to hold on to his shoulders like Hunk had, grounding him. Was he so easy to read that the others knew he needed this, that he needed something, anything, to keep him together and whole? Coran moved to wrap his arms around him, bringing him closer, he realized it was silly to even think that his team had ever forgotten that he did need an anchor. Like how Lance loved to be praised, Pidge having someone listening to her, or how both Allura and Hunk would glow when someone thanked them.

 

He wrapped his arms around Coran, returning the contact, and he felt Coran’s tense muscle loosen as Keith accepted him. He’d missed this, so much, and now it was time to bring Shiro back to this as well if they could.

 

When Keith moved away, it was with a clear mind.

 

Shot Twenty-one

Sacrifice

_Search and destroy_

_A million little pieces_

_Stolen from you_

_(Search and Destroy – 30STM)_

Hades was cold against Champion’s fevered skin, his chest rising and falling in arrhythmic cycles. He had remembered something, important enough that he had argued.

 

His mind felt so incomplete; Missing, fractured clips and segments of pieces he could barely hold on to. Fragments that made no sense.

 

He remembered someone’s smile, chapped lips grinning as they shaped silent words. The rest of their face blank.

 

From behind the figure, he could see others, charred black and almost blending in with the shadows that encircled his thoughts. He tried to chase them, tried to call out only to be brought back to reality when Prorok grabbed him by the jaw.

 

Why did he look so disappointed? He felt wrong, so off centered as his head became almost too heavy to keep up. Prorok’s voice sounded in and out, and the parts Champion heard barely made sense, too stagnant, too loud, too soft. Just too much.

 

He watched as Prorok turned to someone nearby, his voice sounding harsher, and Champion felt a sharp pain in his neck, against his spinal cord, as a syringe pierced through.

 

In small waves, his hearing returned, his body felt lighter, and soon he could focus again.

 

His head still ached, pounding in a continuing cycle.

 

Prorok came back to stand before him, his voice deeper than the others around them. “Be happy, Champion. We saved you before Flare could finish you.”

 

Champion narrowed his eyes, his mind racing to remember. Yet again, only clips, the cold bite of ice, the anger in violet eyes, the ground shaking. Champion looked back at Prorok, forcing himself to nod. Prorok smiled, then. He moved to push back Champion’s hair, his fingers burning against his sweat-chilled skin.

 

“He betrayed you. He betrayed us, Champion.” Prorok smile sharpened, and Champion couldn’t stop from focusing on it, drawn in to the promise of blood that followed the edge of his teeth and lips.

 

“We want you to bring us his head, Champion. We want you to make him suffer until he can’t anymore.”

 

The words buried themselves within him, and he found himself echoing the same smile, felt it seep into him until the rage burned through his chest, and into his lungs, his heart, through his stomach. It charged within him, hotter than any of the currents he could summon.

 

From beneath the words and what they arose inside him, he could barely see the figure’s smile anymore, the softness overwhelmed. He couldn’t find it within himself to care.

 

“I will.”

 

Shot Twenty-Two

Astral Plane

_Don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry_

_Sometimes love’s not enough_

_When the road gets tough_

_I don’t know why_

_(Born to Die- Lana Del Rey)_

Despite being grounded, Thace and Ulaz managed to keep their network functioning, and it had been a few hours after Allura had first talked to them that they called again. They had all paused when Allura spoke to them, but the sudden excitement in her voice captured the rest of their attention. Keith could feel the fatigue fall away as she moved towards the rest of them, and placed her phone on speaker.

 

“We’re all here, Thace.”

 

A small cough sounded in the background, and after a moment Thace responded, “There is a meeting occurring soon, between the officers and commander of this Galra base, and Zarkon’s second in command, Haggar.”

 

Ulaz’s voice echoed through the room, then, his tone more hesitant. “It would be more hazardous, but Shiro is almost guaranteed to be there. Haggar was the one to create Hades, she’d want to see one of her subjects. Especially one as successful as Champion.”

 

Keith shivered, then moved closer, “How secure is this information?”

 

“It isn’t connected to us or to you, but through Prorok’s alerts.” Ulaz sounded smug, and Keith couldn’t help but grin.

 

“At least that one managed to stay.”

 

He looked up to the team, and he could see the same determination there as well.

 

“It’s secure, and it may be our last chance.” Allura said, and the others nodded before settling down to plan. Soon, with the data sent to them, they would finally be able to bring their last member home.

 

-

 

Even though Ulaz had warned them of the meeting place being inside a large, and incredibly loud, nightclub, Keith found it difficult to ignore the bright flashes of lights and the pounding pressure of the music against his chest.

 

He stayed near the walls, keeping groups of people between himself and the rest of the room. He could see the others weaving around the crowds. They hadn’t worn their gear, and Keith felt so bare without the layer of Kevlar he was used to. Allura had given them underclothes that offered some protection, the fabric being more durable than normal, but Keith knew it wouldn’t stop a knife or a bullet.

 

He continued to observe, all the while searching for Champion, for signs of Prorok and Haggar. He saw familiar Galra figures, guards and elites.

 

He almost missed seeing the knife aimed for Lance’s throat.

 

It was chaos after that, screams as Lance dodged the blade before launching the Galra across the dance floor. People were pushing, frenzying as they tried to exit, and as he lost sight of the others he could only catch a partial glimpse of Galra approaching them before nothing.

 

Cursing, he moved forward, only to dodge his own attacker. The Galra was quick, his speed enhanced, and the rush of air against his face before barely dodging jolted Keith into the fight. Unlike the one that went after Lance, this one didn’t rely on brute strength, and Keith found himself outclassed with the speed the other had.

 

 It was a lucky strike that let him catch the other with his flames, and the Galra crumbled in pain when it raced across his torso and up towards his face. It was over before the Galra could scream.

 

Keith managed to drag in a breath, before bending away from an arc of lightning, the current searing part of his shirt and the skin underneath. He let out a cry of pain, and he could hear the others call out for him across their coms, but any attempt to answer back was cut short as Champion lunged at him, a roar coming deep from his chest.

 

Keith moved on a defensive pattern, shifting and twisting around a fighting style that he knew so well, but he couldn’t make himself use the openings he saw. The large burn on his chest made his breath fall into short, pained gasps, and his dodging was sloppy as each movement sharpened the ache, and while Keith couldn’t take the opportunities to bring the other down, Champion didn’t allow any time for him to recover.

 

Keith darted behind a table, then sent a surge of fire up and against the strobe lights above them. Champion jumped back, avoiding a light hitting him, before casting out another current. Keith’s eyes widened, and he leapt towards the side, and while the hit did not connect to the center of his chest, it still pierced through his side. When Keith landed, it was with his lungs seizing, and the taste of burnt skin and hair on his tongue.

 

He could just breathe again when Champion was upon him, his knee digging in to his injured side, pinning him. He let out a strangled scream, the pain becoming all too much, and the sneer Champion had, the hatred and glee of finally being able to kill Keith enclosed around him.

 

He let out a small sob, his lungs struggling to breathe under the pain and weight, his mind telling him to close his eyes and look away. He continued to stare up at Champion though, eyes wide as tears streaked down the sides of his face. He could feel a wetness spreading from his side, he could feel the tearing caused by the Champion’s weight against broken skin and muscle.

 

The other raised his arm, the metal heating. As Keith watched the other, he saw the man Champion had killed with that arm before, the live practice Sendak had given him. He remembered being pinned against a wall, Champion’s fists connecting over and over again.

 

He remembered Shiro above him as he slipped a ring onto his finger, his hands then carding through his hair as they laid together on a too small couch. He looked back up to Champion, his gaze never leaving the other’s

 

He whispered, congested and barely audible.

 

“…Shiro…”

 

Shot Twenty-Three

Future

_Take my hand, I give it to you_

_Now you own me, all I am_

_You said you would never leave me_

_I believe you_

_I believe_

_(All Around Me- Flyleaf)_

The room’s lights were disorienting, and Shiro eyes couldn’t focus. The off-white surfaces were nothing compared to his mind, however, and though Shiro hated the medical ward he sat in, he welcomed the distraction it caused.

 

Someone next to him shuffled, and he concentrated on putting a name to the other. _Hunk._ The one who had thrown him across rooms, who had ambushed him so many times during assignments. Shiro forced his mind to a staggering halt,

 

_Hunk._

The one who knew how to make everyone relax after missions. Who could place a hand on someone, the same hand that could level a street if the owner wanted to, and instead calm them.

 

It was bitter, trying to pretend that Hunk couldn’t comfort him anymore, that he didn’t want to be comforted. He wanted to fall back on the other, or speak to the rest gathered around in the Garrison’s side room. More than anything, he wanted Keith here, not—

 

Shiro stiffened, and even though he could feel Hunk’s breathing against his arm, even with the sudden calling of his name, gentle and hesitant like he was a scared animal, he couldn’t empty his mind again. He shut his eyes, breath light and uneven, his skin feeling so clammy, he’d forgotten how much it hurt to remember.

 

He forgot how to push the emotions back, and even if he did, he couldn’t forget those eyes, marred with bruises and flecks of blood. Pain etched into the dulling violet, barely holding on as he held him down

 

Keith had refused to look away, and Shiro wished he had. Wished he could have stopped it.

 

Shiro, with his mind brought back, couldn’t decide on whether he should have died, or stayed under the thrall of Hades. And he hated himself, hated how the team stayed by him, supporting him, while Keith lay in the other room.

 

It was hours until Iverson came in to debrief, and even though he pressed him, moving as close as he dared to Shiro, he didn’t answer. Allura stepped in instead, her voice sounding like crunches of metal and debris to him. Jarring and inescapable. Allura painted the tale, her words just as calming and persuasive as he remembered them to be.

 

Like when she convinced him to pursue Keith, her words playful yet firm, as she had almost laid it completely in front of him on how infatuated the two were with one another. He wondered if she could still say that after watching Shiro’s assault on Keith. He couldn’t see how any of them recognized Shiro at all.

 

Though he missed Iverson’s conversation, he didn’t miss the look of pity and how it pulled Iverson’s scar further down, how his eyes looked distant like he too regretted all the choices made. Like he was somehow responsible for what Shiro did.

 

Shiro wished he could forget again, forget being Champion. Forget what he did to Keith. Forget the callousness from the last year. He wished he could forget how it felt to be loved and supported, so that he wouldn’t desire it now.

 

Shot Twenty-four

Horror

_I hear your footsteps in the hallways_

_Your presence won’t leave this place_

_This house has worlds inside its walls_

_In the backroom, on the last night_

_I heard you crying for life_

_(The Home We Made- Crywolf)_

A chunk of ice kept the hand from entering his chest, and instead it gouged through the top of his shoulder, the heat cauterizing as the damage was done. In the blare of pain and panic, he felt Champion’s weight being thrown off and another person standing before him and Champion.

 

As Frost and Champion fought, a lighter hand drew him from the ground, the touch avoiding his injured side and arm as they drew him away from the fight. Archangel set his back against the nearest booth, her hands pushing his shirt up and away from the injuries until only one sleeve was still on. Her hands were quick, but her eyes spoke of panic, her head making jerked motions to look behind towards the fighting before halting.

 

Keith groaned and tried to move farther back as she pressed down harder, forcing the skin to reknit, and she let out a small noise of complaint. “Don’t. You’ll bleed out if this isn’t fixed.”

 

While the shoulder, though painful, had fused from the heat, his side consisted of a steady flow of blood, and Keith watched as it soaked into the hem of his pants and then to the fabric where Allura’s thigh brushed against his own. She was almost done, the flow coming to a small ebb, when Champion managed to throw Frost away from him, making the hero crash into the nearest wall. He didn’t move, and with a panicked jolt, Keith shot his hand out, creating a small explosion to stop Champion as he moved towards them.

 

Champion landed hard, his pained cry as he slammed against the ground making Keith freeze. With the time he bought them, Allura picked him up before darting away. Anger shot through Keith, his eyes wild, and he dug his nails in to Archangel’s arm, his voice strained, “No, no, go back!”

 

He continued to scream at her, trying to escape her hold, but like Champion she was stronger than him. His screams turned into a thin, wavering wail, and he felt Archangel, Allura, flinch before tightening her grip. He continued to tell her to go back, even as they reached the Garrison, and he only grew silent as she and Coran began to treat him and Lance who could barely keep himself upright from the deep cut on his forehead and the concussion is caused.

Shot Twenty-five

Gladiolus

_We come on through the storm_

_Tired soldiers in this war_

_Remember what we’re fighting for_

_(Battlefield- Svrcina)_

Thace and Ulaz had arrived as soon as they could, and while Thace’s steps were unsteady he still stayed in stride with the other. Allura paced them, her irritability tangible.

 

Thace sat down with a heavy side, his eyes closed for a moment before he addressed her, “Our information was new, we didn’t realize there’d be so many combatants there.”

 

“That wasn’t all. Some of us hesitated.” Allura looked at Keith, and even though she didn’t stop frowning, her posture softened, “Keith, we can’t hold back. Even if Shiro may be hurt, it’s better than the alternative.”

 

“I know!” Keith’s voice felt sore, the screaming from earlier having strained the muscles. He repeated, softer. “I know, Allura. I just. I.” He faltered, and he felt his body heat up as the others watched.

 

Ulaz interrupted then, “Forgive me, Keith, but Allura, you must understand the expectations the Galra had. We forced him to comply, to obey for the sake of Shiro’s wellbeing.” Keith tilted his head down, and for a moment he wanted to lash out at the others, to make them stop looking at him.

 

“Then we’ll just have to give him the strength.” Hunk was quiet, but his voice captured the room. He turned until he directly faced Keith, “You know Shiro, Keith, you know his fighting skills, you know how to win the most out of all of us. Without you, our chances go down.”

 

Lance nodded, “We had the others taken care of, but you and Shiro? That was up to you, then. Next time, it could be the same. He’s after you, not us.”

 

Keith wished he could summon the fire inside him, then, to show the others that he could. That they could trust him. But his body felt so cold. As if sensing it, Ulaz came to stand before him, and Keith could see his fire reaching towards him from within the other.

 

“We broke you both, Keith. We destroyed who you were, did we not?”

 

He could hear the others protest, their voices rising, but Ulaz’s stayed in focus, and Keith couldn’t look away.

 

“We forced you, we took Shiro’s mind. We made him Champion. And now you can’t do anything, you won’t do anything.”

 

The cold pit inside his chest began to expand, bubbling with the memories buried there.

 

“You feel anger during assignments, do you not? You feel anger as we forced you to kill, as we took everything from you!”

 

It was by pure hesitance that Keith’s flame didn’t scorch Ulaz’s face, and from the corner of his eyes he could see Thace tense, and the others still in shock. Ulaz only looked pleased as Keith felt the fire churning from inside him and through his fists.

 

“It isn’t over yet, Keith. You didn’t break under Hades, don’t break now.” Keith forced the fire to recede.

 

“I don’t know how to wake him up.” His voice felt stronger, and with the dying down of his fire, the others relaxed. Ulaz returned to sit by Thace, and the other seemed to press himself as close towards Ulaz as he couldn’t without touching.

 

“Hades itself doesn’t erase memories, it simply forces the mind to redirect away making it easier to make the victim comply. His mind is still there, Keith.”

 

Keith nodded, and after a pause he looked over to Allura and Coran, “Every time I brought up our past, he’d get severe headaches. Sometimes he’d have them for more than a week before they took him back to Hades.”

 

Coran dipped his head in agreement as he started to answer, but Pidge spoke then before he could, “So theoretically, if you can keep up with him in a fight long enough, you could bring his mind back to the surface.”

 

Hunk grimaced, and shook his head, “And if you can’t? We can’t be sure that someone else will be there for backup. What happens if Lance doesn’t get there in time, or if Allura can’t heal him again?” Keith hesitated again, unable to voice his thoughts as he could feel the silent question directed at him. Would he even hurt Champion, if it meant stopping him. He stood then, and moved closer to Allura.

 

“I won’t. Not this time. Ulaz is right, if we can call him back, if we can reach him.” Keith paused, “I told you before that Shiro does not have much time left, we don’t have another chance.” His voice broke at the last few words.

 

“He is right, Shiro has already been exposed for far too long. It’ll be difficult enough for you to heal him, Allura. If we wait any longer, the damage will be irreversible.” Allura glanced up at Coran then, and after a moment turned back to address Keith and the others.

 

“If we must, then we’ll try once more, even with the odds against us.”

 

Shot Twenty-Six

Pirates

_And I’m gonna find my way_

_Back to your side_

_And I’m gonna find my way_

_Back to your side_

_(Ships in the Night- Mat Kearny)_

Keith ran through the Galra base with Frost next to him, the other super taking out those outside Keith’s range. Both could hear struggles and heavy breathing over their coms, and as the two passed into a new section of the base, Keith hoped that the others would be safe.

 

“Archangel and I are almost to Hades.” Ulaz’s voice sounded exerted as he kept in pace with the super, but he had insisted on being at the lab when they destroyed Hades. To make sure it wouldn’t be replicated or repaired later. As the coms went silent again, both he and Frost almost collided with a new group, this one being a mix of elites and controlled supers. Frost pushed them towards one another, dodging bone-like protrusions that one super sent his way, and once Keith found a clear path, he created a blast in the middle of the group. A few collided with the walls, and did not get up, but a handful stayed upright and both He and Keith could hear more footsteps approaching.

 

“Go, I got this!” Frost shouted, his voice abrupt as he weaved together pillars and strands of ice until Keith could barely see him or his opponents. He punched the ice in frustration, yelling out for Frost to stay alive, before continuing down the hallway.

 

It was quiet the further in to the base he went, the sounds of rumbling and gunshots, and the occasional explosion, becoming muffled by the distance. His footsteps became faster as he went deeper into the halls, desperate. He had to find Shiro this time, he had to stop Champion.

 

It was Champion who found him first, his fist coming from around the corner as Keith was turning, and Keith only just managed to grab on to the wrist, twisting and forcing Champion to follow the inertia before forcing him away. Keith wanted to freeze, he could feel the boiling inside him dampening, gasping for breath as Keith lost his own. Champions eyes weren’t the dull tone he’d come to accept within the last year, instead, they burned brighter than Keith’s fire. They were shot with red, the shadows so darkened that his face looked gaunt, and as if struck by a surge of life, Keith’s fire rose again.

 

Champion leapt at him, his arm charged, and Keith felt his side twinge painfully as he dodged, his own arm redirecting and forcing Champion from him.

 

“Shiro, it’s me. You need to wake up.” Champion snarled back, and clipped Keith’s chin with the next hit, thankfully with his regular arm. Keith was still forced back by the strength behind the blow, and he found himself having to spit out blood as he continued to talk.

 

“We were part of Team Voltron, you were leader because no one else could trust the other to lead. You made us practice for five hours straight when Pidge broke your coffee machine.”

 

Keith’s breathe turned into heavy pants, and it was only the consistent pain radiating from Champion as they fought that kept him one step ahead of the never-ending attacks. Keith found an opening and Champion let out a grunt of pain, his body shuddering, and as he dropped to his knee, he hooked his arm under Champion’s leg, and lifted. The other fell with a indignant shout, then grabbed Keith’s injured shoulder to bring the other down. Keith’s own cry followed Champion’s, his vision whitening, and when it returned it was with Champion pinning him again. Keith barely caught the other’s arm as it came down on his face.

 

“You loved me, Shiro. You let them take you, too. You stayed there until you couldn’t anymore.” Keith gasped, the sweat on his hands and the shaking made his grip precarious. He darted his eyes from the glowing hand, and looked at Champion. “We were going to wait, but you wanted to live with me. You wanted me, Shiro. I’m not going to lose that again.”

 

He watched Champion’s eyes widen, and as Keith’s shoulder finally gave out and made his grip crumble, he created a burst of fire between them, throwing Champion back against the corner’s edge. His shoulder ached fiercely, and any healing Archangel had done was obsolete now as blood oozed down. Keith went to place his hand over it, only to stop as his body shuttered in pain. His collarbone was injured, maybe broken.

 

He let out a weak laugh, as he failed to do more than sit up and watch as Champion moved back to his feet. He waited for the other to charge back towards him, to finish what he was sent to do, but he only stood still with shaking limbs. Keith watched as Champion silently mouthed a string of repeated words, his eyes wide as he stared down at Keith, and with shock he realized he was staring back at Shiro, not the Champion, when he came to kneel before Keith with shaky hands outstretched to him.

Shot Twenty-Seven

Knowledge

_Never stop hoping_

_Need to know where you are_

_But one thing’s for sure_

_You’re always in my heart_

_(Somewhere- Within Temptation)_

Shiro came to with his head pounding and with limbs that could barely support his weight. It took several tries to stand fully, and from across where every he was, he could someone’s own heavy breathing echoing his own. As he started to look up to the other person, his gaze instead caught the glimmer of metal where his arm was, and he could only stare in horror. The ache throughout his entire body increased as he looked up, and his eyes met with dazed ones. He wanted to scream as he took in the bloody form of Keith, how he could barely support his weight on his good arm, and he saw how smears of red spread out from around him, how some of it trailed back to him and his arm.

 

What had he done.

 

His attention was brought back to the choked sound of Keith laughing, so hollow and double edged as his form slumped farther down like he was giving up. Shiro’s eyes widened at that, and a sudden urge to reach out and cling to Keith shot through him, echoing past the remains of the headache pounding inside him, through the fatigue in his limbs.

 

As he drew towards Keith, the other flinched, and with barely a moment to think it through, Shiro wrapped his arms around Keith, pulling him as close as possible. The other whined as the shoulder injured was jarred, and Shiro quickly placed his arms farther down, wrapping them around his waist instead and letting one arm come from behind to support Keith’s back.

 

The other was silent, his body so tense, and it had been so long since Keith ever refused to hold him back. Shiro couldn’t remember why there was no comfort now. Even as Shiro continued to hold on to him, Keith still refused to relax, and with a great struggle Shiro managed to let go. The other immediately leaned away, his eyes wide and glassy with tears.

 

“Shiro, you’re…” Keith’s words fell short, his eyes darting across Shiro’s face, studying him, and Shiro felt so bare under the gaze of this new Keith.

 

“How much time did I lose, Keith?” Keith’s entire body reacted violently to that his nose flaring as his scrambled to stand up and away from Shiro. He followed Keith to his feet, and as the two faced one another, each waiting for a moment to break the silence, Keith jerked again. Shiro could hear the static mumbling of the com, and as the sound disappeared Keith looked back towards Shiro.

 

His eyes held a bit of hope, the violet lighter than before, and Shiro could feel the same echoing through him. With his jaw set, Keith moved closer, “Let’s destroy Hades.” He reached out then to Shiro, his hands shaking, and Shiro’s own quivered as they melded together. Keith pulled him, then, heading towards where the labs were.

 

Shiro followed, but from one moment then to another, Keith let go again.

Shot Twenty-Eight

Death

_Love, there is violence in this fall_

_I hear your whispers fading further_

_You touch my hand_

_You see how all my broken pieces_

_Are painted on the walls_

_(The Home We Made- Crywolf)_

Even with Keith in front of him, and with the headache dissipating, Shiro could sense the moments where his mind would falter. The hallways blended, and in some moments, he’d find himself farther along than what he remembered they had once been at. Keith didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care, and Shiro could only follow his staggered dashing. Keith held himself awkwardly as he tried to be quick, his shoulder slouched in a way that was abnormal compared to his other side.

 

When they arrived at the labs, they could hear Archangel’s screaming, rage filled as she held the Galra away from Ulaz. His fingers danced across the computer’s keyboard, the screen before him flickering as she shifted through the database. His face snapped over to them and Archangel as they joined the fight, and with a cry he called out to Shiro.

 

“Quickly, Shiro, help me.”

 

He froze, his mind trying to make sense of why Ulaz of all people would be standing there, why he would even help them, but he felt Keith push against his back and Archangel nodded towards him, gesturing for him to listen.

 

As he neared the other, he saw Ulaz type in a final code before the screens flashed between the previous images and a blue screen.  Ulaz stepped away, a large grin on his face, and he looked to Shiro then.

 

“The virus will destroy the archives, but I can’t destroy the actual machine. It’ll need to be over 1,700 degrees Celsius.”

 

Shiro nodded, and after making sure the other stayed within his sight, he began to build up a charge to panic as his hand heated up as well. He shook it off, eyes wide, and as the heat grew and the currents leapt from his skin, he reached towards Hades to allow a straight shot for the electricity to travel.

 

It took only moments for it to concave against its own weight, the chair and computers melting white hot until it finally collapsed in a heap of smoldering metal and burnt polyester.

 

Shiro turned then to look back to the rest of the room, and he watched as both Keith and Archangel took care of the last Galra. He moved towards Keith then, and even though the hesitation was still there, Keith still moved forward to embrace him.

 

 It was with their proximity that he could feel Keith’s body give a large jerk, the muscles tightening before slumping. As he heard a small gasp escape Keith, the other became dead weight, and Shiro struggled to drag him away from the doorway.

As they settled away from new round of gunfire, he turned Keith until he leaned against him and Shiro could see the tear of the bullet’s entry in the middle of his back, but he couldn’t find the exit would. He couldn’t see where it was, and as jagged ice crept down his spine and into his stomach and lungs, he realized it was still inside Keith. The other groaned, his gasps of air barely pulling anything in, and with a desperate shout, he called to Archangel. She looked over at him, her eyes narrowing as she saw Keith, and as quickly as they could Shiro placed Keith in her arms and stood before the new wave of Galra.

 

As he fought, he heard more familiar voices come closer. The Galra faltered as the others joined in, the anger searing through the room like Keith’s flames, and for a moment it felt like he was there as well, guarding their backs while taking down the enemy.

 

Frost disengage as Archangel shouted for him, and in between moments of darting from one enemy to the next, Shiro could see Archangel directing him to freeze where the blood was flowing too quickly. As the last Galra fell, Shiro turned back towards them, the breath leaving him as he saw how pale Keith had become.

 

As one they moved, Craft’s voice panicked as she alerted Augur to the situation, and they all guarded Archangel as she kept contact with Keith, forcing energy into his body to keep it from completely failing. The hallways felt longer to Shiro, they felt like they would never end, and it took him by surprise when they finally saw the exit.

Shot Twenty-Nine

Present

_I’m coming home from all the places_

_I have been with nothing_

_But a voice within_

_That calls me home_

_(Calls Me Home- Shannon LaBrie)_

It was a few hours after Iverson left the medical ward that they could finally enter the room Keith was in. The doctors had been doubtful at first, the blood loss already reaching a critical point, and as the x-rays had come in, one of the nurses had told them of the ricochet damage. The bullet itself had been a clean shot, missing Keith’s spinal cord, but instead collided into his lower rib. The bones had shattered, impromptu shrapnel against his kidney and a small section of large intestine.

 

It was hard to imagine the internal damage now that Keith was laying before him, his chest rising steadily as the anesthetics were left to wear off with time. Shiro found himself with only Keith’s heartbeat, the others forced to leave for a debrief despite each one of them complaining with everything they had.

 

It took too long for Shiro to reach towards Keith’s hand, and even longer before he convinced himself to let his finger entwine with the other’s. He stayed like that, allowing himself to feel Keith’s skin against his own.

 

It was some time later, when Keith’s fingers twitched and the other stirred, that Shiro took his hand away as quickly as he could, his eyes wide as he leaned out from his seat and towards Keith.

 

As tired eyes opened, the others returned, this light chattering stopping as they saw Keith looking back at them, and Shiro pushed himself away as the others group around him. Pidge’s and Lance’s loud berating mixed with the sound of relief that they all carried, and with careful arms, Keith was soon cut from Shiro’s sight as the others curled around him. He could hear the light sobs from Hunk, the quite praise of Keith’s luck from Coran.

 

 He watched until Lance looked up and towards him, and with a small smile Lance gestured for him to come closer, and his hand circled around Shiro’s as he stepped into range, forcing him to lean against the others until he could see Keith as well. The other’s eyes were barely open, but the smile on his face was wide, much more lively than the ones he had given Shiro in the halls.

 

The moment after their eyes met Keith finally allowed his to close, as if he had been waiting before falling back into sleep, and the others backed away as the room became quiet again. They sat together, the relief so tangible around them, and even though Shiro knew it would take time, it felt like he could be home again.

 

That their team, that he and Keith and all the others that he would do anything for, were with him once more.

Shot Thirty

Break

_Echoes of the shots ring out_

_We may be the first to fall_

_Everything could stay the same_

_Or we could change it all_

_(Battlefield- Svrcina)_

There hadn’t been much space when Keith and Shiro returned to the Garrison, yet somehow their old room had remained bare. Keith was partially convinced it was due to Pidge, maybe even Lance and Hunk, too. The space was still the same though, the shadows from the sun rising and the lights from the nearby street-lamps so familiar to Keith that he’d find himself in moments of confusion, brief moments where he’d try to piece together if this was a dream or not.

 

The bed he and Shiro tried to share also caused these relapses. Shiro slept as far away as possible as he had done as Champion, his shoulder never loosening from their tensed edge as if Keith could suddenly attack. Keith didn’t blame him, though. He also slept at the edge of the mattress, always facing Shiro’s back.

 

The hesitance followed them from the bedroom, it filtered in to the eating area, into the training center the Garrison provided. As the others laughed and welcomed them back, and Keith finally found himself relaxing and trusting them again, he couldn’t let go of the pain that came from being near Shiro.

 

He knew Shiro felt it too. The moments where Shiro would let go, and his old smile flashed brightly. He’d freeze, then, like his mind had stopped, and then he’d frown, his eyes distant from memories.

 

It went on for months, even as Keith finally recovered fully and the Garrison spoke of reinstating them as heroes. The others weren’t pleased, the hurt on their faces devastated Keith, and both he and Shiro agreed to try and talk.

 

Which led to Keith sitting on a chair across from Shiro as the other rested on the edge of their bed. Already, Shiro had tried to start the conversation, his words barely coming to the surface before he’d stop and try again a few minutes later. It made Keith want to spit the discomfort out like a bitter taste, and as Shiro tried yet again, Keith interrupted.

 

“It was my fault, you should have left me.”

 

Shiro face was full of bewilderment, but it swiftly changed in to one of anger, and his tone cut across Keith as he answered, “I did leave you, Keith. I was going to let you face all of it alone.”

 

He cut himself off, the anger mixing with regret as he slumped until his elbows met his knees. “I thought about it, how you’d be abandoned. I couldn’t stop, though.” Keith leaned forward, the beginning of Shiro’s name on his tongue, before Shiro snapped at him.

 

“No! What happened to us that night? That wasn’t your fault. Me trying to escape? Letting you take the brunt of all of it? How does someone come back from that?”

 

Tears were slipping down his face then, and a deep ache filled Keith. Shiro whispered the next part, “I was just so tired, Keith. I didn’t care anymore.” He choked out a sob, and curled farther into himself, his form becoming so compact that Keith felt like he was finally the bigger one out of the two.

 

“You did leave, Shiro. There’s no changing it.” He continued, even as Shiro tried to interrupt, “But you didn’t when they caught us. You stayed with me and you were there when we woke up at the base. Shiro, you couldn’t protect me the entire time. You needed it, too.”

 

Keith moved then, and he was so tired of feeling nervous around Shiro, nervous at how the other would react or even how he would respond, but he didn’t stop until his arms circled around the other, and as he held on he felt as each muscle uncoiled, how Shiro slumped against him until Keith had to push his own body against him to stay standing.

 

“I’m tired of feeling guilty, Shiro. I’m tired of us not working anymore.”

 

Shiro was quiet, and for a moment Keith wondered if this was too much, if he had taken it too far yet again. The doubt fell away as Shiro shifted until both he and Keith fell back onto the bed, and as he wrapped his arms tighter, Keith couldn’t only stay there on his chest, his face buried against the other’s neck.

 

Keith felt his tears falling from his nose and down Shiro’s neck, and he could feel the small wetness from where Shiro pressed his face against Keith’s shoulder.  He fell limp, letting himself be lulled as thumbs circle against the small of his back and each breath from Shiro lifted him up before settling him back down.

Shot Thirty-One

Promise

_Sleep on me, feel the rhythm of my chest_

_Just breathe_

_I will stay so the lantern in your heart_

_Won’t fade._

_(Guillotine- Jon Bellion)_

_A Year Later_

The team was proud of their progress, even though they’d made jokes of when the wedding would be when Keith finally gained enough courage to kiss Shiro in public. Keith wasn’t sure Lance was still as proud though when their nights turned noisy again, but Keith was sure that the other’s room was more empty than not as the other found more excuses to be with Hunk.

 

They’d changed so much during the time when they had been gone, and even after this year, he was still finding areas that no longer felt familiar anymore. Both he and Shiro had been left speechless as Allura had bent down to kiss Pidge after a mission, and while the others treated it as normal, it hadn’t been for him. He didn’t know when they decided to start flirting, or when Hunk decided Lance’s actions were more of a turn on than anything else.

 

Nights with Shiro were different as well. He would hold on to Keith with a keen desperation, his actions almost pleading for more time, like everything they had may be stripped away. He felt it, too. In the mornings if Shiro was not there, he’d be overwhelmed as panic burst within him, flaring up and through his entire body until the other returned. Shiro would kiss him then, the biggest comfort he could try to give Keith.

 

Shiro couldn’t be underneath, or at least not for long moments. Keith couldn’t be pinned down. Neither could talk about their time with the Galra, and even during the therapy sessions the Garrison required, Keith could barely put in to words what he had done, what he had seen. He didn’t know how Shiro’s sessions went.

 

But, in small moments like this one, as Shiro nipped at his neck before placing kisses across his skin, the soft light of a sunrise washing over them, Keith felt like it could be okay. As they pushed and pulled against each other, as they comforted and sought both love and each other’s touches, Keith would feel as close to whole as he could be. He knew Shiro felt it too, knew it as he smiled a lopsided grin, light sighs coming from him as they curled against one another, the room shutting out everything else for brief moments of respite.

 

Keith was willing to take this, no matter anything else. He was willing to go through anything else if it meant these moments would continue to grow and expand into something new.


End file.
